Day One, 12:01 AM

Rose Weasley watched the sky become lit with various shades of blues, greens, yellows, and reds. She frowned.

It reminded her of something her father said a few years ago, she remembered he had told her in a bomb shelter. He explained how at the beginning of the war, Harry, and her mother, and him had been camping and searching for Voldemort's horcruxes. One quiet night, while he was on guard, he had seen the Northern Lights.

He had said it had looked like the Yule Ball, colors dancing with unfamiliar shades, twirling and spinning all throughout the night. Now watching the lights waltz across the smoky sky, she wished she was where her father had been that night, with numbing fingertips and a rosy nose, but happy. She wasn't happy.

A glowering stupefy glanced off of her disillusionment charm, and she grimaced. Arching her wand in to the air, she took off the charm. Of course, she had hoped it would last longer, but nothing good lasts long in war. Not even a minute in solitude. Rose wiped the sweat and blood off her brow, and surged in to the battlefield.

Day One 4:57 AM

Penelope Longbottom had died. Seven more had been injured. Rose realizes that Penelope had only been fifteen. Then she realizes Lysander had only been sixteen, and his brother the same. So many juveniles dead, so many of the wizened mourning. No one was made for war, but her friends seemed even more so at four o'clock in the morning, when Rose thought about how Penelope had never kissed a boy, or gotten the guts to admit her crush to Albus.

Penelope Penelope Penelope…..

Rose cried herself to sleep.

Day Ten 8:00 AM

"What is he doing here?!" Rose snarled, clawing off her uncle's tentative hand that he had placed on her shoulder. She dragged herself across the hall, one hand grasping her ribs, her other smearing blood all over the wall as she stumbled along.

"Get out! Get out, I kill-"

"You won't be doing anything, Rose. He's here to talk to me." Rose's head whipped around as she stared incredulously at her Uncle Harry's face. His warm green eyes looked worn, no longer the bright emerald they had once been. His lips were spread in to a tight, grim frown, and he narrowed his eyebrows to undock his stern appearance. "Even if Scorpius were here for a meeting, you wouldn't attend it. You've been becoming too brash with your emotions, and it's becoming too dangerous to have you on missions." Rose's face turned bright red with embarrassment and anger at being called out in front of the boy she hated so vehemently. Turning on the blonde haired boy, she watched as he looked anywhere but at her, mostly at the ceiling, and it amused her. He seemed to be praying to sort of muggle god. Surely, a fuckwad elitist like him wouldn't believe in any sort of lord but the dark one.

"Look at me." She snapped, and he slowly dragged his jade eyes down to hers, a nervous haze clouding over top of them. "Eat shit."

Harry shoved Scorpius in to the door and slammed the door shut with a loud whoosh clack.

Rose turned away, and trudged down the hallway, leaving a trail of cruor in her wake.

Day Eleven 2:00 PM

"Rose?" Rose glanced at Albus out of the corner of her eye, and saw him scraping his fork across his plate. She grasped his hand and pulled the fork away. "What?"

"We are murderers."

Rose stared at him in stunned silence for what seemed like hours. Murderers? No, they were not murderers. They were protecting the innocent, and fighting for what was right. Rose told Albus just that. His mouth curved in to a condescending smile.

"They think they are fighting for what is right, the Death Eaters are. We just have two different ideas on what is right." His head slumped forward on to the palm of his hand, and he sighed.

"This war is pointless, you know. Why couldn't we just break off? Like, Purebloods live off on their own; create their own wizarding schools, shops, worlds. Penelope-"Albus coughed, and willed his tears away, "She didn't have to die. This is stupid." His words were whispered and harsh, like a winter blizzard. Piles and piles of cold snow and icy winds whipping innocent cheeks.

Rose was in the middle of a blizzard, willing for spring.

She wrapped an arm around Albus' shoulder and pulled his frostbite body to her own, hoping for warmth to will the pain away.

Day Eighteen 10.37 PM

Rose clenched her eyes shut, and swiped the scratchy pad of her thumb across her eyelids, trying to wipe the blood out of them. She squinted at the vacant battlefield, gazing over the dead bodies for a bright blue ribbon; her portkey. Wiping her muddy hands across the ground, she whimpered for her lost portkey.

"No no no." She garbled, choking on the surpassable amount of fear that was welling up inside of her. How would she escape this place? Anti-Disapparation wards had been put up. Rose stiffened at the distant sound of murmuring, and immediately stumbled to her feet, sprinting off in to untraveled lands. Tree limbs seemed to lash out at her as she weaved in between, up and down over them. One tree limb seemed to reach out and grab her, and she was flung backwards in to the frozen ground, her skull hitting the ground with a loud clonk. Rose let out a whimper and pushed herself in to a kneeling position. A sickly sob made its way out of her mouth, as one hand plopped on to the back of her head, making a vomit-inducing sucking sound. All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep, but she knew she had to keep moving. The consequences of laziness had turned to death.

Using a tree as a crutch, she forced her wobbly legs to stand, and she continued to amble on with only the nimble light of her wand to guide her. Rose felt the dirt turn to plush grass, and she reached down to grab a clump of it. She spun around and squinted in to the darkness, daring for someone to attack her.

No one came.

Rose crawled across the carpet of grass until she reached a thick and flowery bush, where she disillusioned herself and fell to the ground with a soft thud. She wasn't very proud of this, but she started to cry. She cried because she was scared no one would ever find her. She was scared that she was too weak to move anymore, and that it was a possibility that death eaters could kill her.

Rose.

Rose sat up, and unlit her wand, sinking deeper in to the darkness. It was only a whisper he had heard; she could have mistaken it for a soft rustle of a tree limb.

Rosie?

This whisper was even fainter, but it was truly her name she heard. It was a nickname, and it was familiar.

She sat in anticipated silent, willing her shallow breaths to steady and become quieter. Her clothes felt damp to her, most likely from the sticky blood covering every inch of her skin.

"Rose?" She gasped as a bright light went over her body, and she squinted to see who was in front of her. She saw a flash of blonde at first, and then the whole being. Scorpius Malfoy, that is. He was crouched down right in front of her, his eyes looking nervous and wary in front of her. Rose thought that perhaps he expected another fight between her, another immature brawl that she would start. Rose clenched her mouth shut.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and Rose glared at him. He shifted on to his other knee, and looked at the ground. "No, I suppose not. Not at all. I've got a portkey to St. Mun-"

"And why would I take your damn portkey, hmm? Death eater?" Rose scowled, and it seemed that she could not contain herself when around him. She wanted to make him bleed, and suffer, just like his father's side of the army had done to her people. Her people, not his. "I don't need your bloody help, Malfoy. Fuck off." Malfoy did in fact, not fuck off. He even had the guts to sit down next her, leaning against the tree stump and closed his eyes. She watched as he gripped his right shoulder, hissing in pain before cradling his whole right arm. Rose sneered and looked away. She ripped clumps of the soft grass beneath her, cursing the blonde haired boy to hell and back.

No one spoke for a while, a few hours had passed. Rose did not give in and take the boys portkey, and he did not ask her again. All he did was stare at the sky, and close his eyes. Stare, and close. She watched him do it with guilty curiosity, and watched as he seemed to watch the sky with a certain emotion Rose just couldn't put her finger on. His whole body would lay there, his face and rigid frame like a stone sculpture. Probably like the ones in his huge manor gardens. Rose would think bitterly, but would stare at him all the same. However, Scorpius was the first one to speak.

"You see that?" He asked her, lifting his good arm to the sky and pointing. Rose didn't want to look, but felt her eyes gravitate towards the sky anyways. He was pointing towards a collection of stars, almost in the shape of an anchor.

"That's the constellation Scorpius. We are in the perfect place to view it tonight." He sucked in his lower lip, and didn't look for her to continue. "In muggle Greek mythology, Scorpius was the scorpion to defeat the great hunter, Orion. The scorpion had stung and killed the hunter because of his great boasts. Orion would brag that he could kill any beast, well-"Scorpius let out a low chuckle, and a weak smile. "He couldn't kill the great scorpion. He couldn't kill me."

"Who couldn't kill you?" Scorpius frowned, and did not answer. Rose didn't expect him to. He dug into his pocket, and held his hand out to Rose.

"I still don't want it."

"Okay."

Rose stared up at the constellation, she sighed.

"You've got another portkey, for yourself?" Scorpius looked at her, a dead look in his eyes.

"Yes, but why do you care?" Rose didn't know why she had asked, either. She didn't reply. She took the key from his hand and felt her world spinning until it turned black.